


Treasure

by cymyguy



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Loneliness, M/M, Magical Elements, Minor Injuries, Reunions, dragon kageyama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-17 23:23:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21701416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cymyguy/pseuds/cymyguy
Summary: When Hinata came into his path, the path of a great night-black beast, a towering horned dragon, he was just a boy.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Comments: 10
Kudos: 179





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A gift for [kos-tyan](https://twitter.com/kos___tyan) on twitter, based off his very cool [Dragon Kageyama](https://kos-tyan.tumblr.com/post/188499776345/day-21-treasure-lets-pretend-its-one-more) art!

When Hinata came into his path, the path of a great night-black beast, a towering horned dragon, he was just a boy, of 15 years or so. Hinata was afraid. Kageyama wasn’t afraid of humans in the slightest, or fond of them either, but he was curious about this one. There were flames dancing on the top of his head, and his face was round, his nose little and slightly upturned. He had come to fish the stream at the same time as Kageyama, with a pole and a wicker basket. Kageyama moved toward him, creeping low over the ground to keep him directly in front of his snout. He smelled anything but dangerous. The boy must not know just how large the fish in this stream were, because even the smallest of them could pull him right into the water.

Kageyama had blinked one deep blue eye at him, until the boy seemed to recognize what his attention was, or at least what it was not. His eyes turned warm, and half of his mouth lifted into a trace of a smile.

Kageyama huffed mightily through his nostrils. The boy staggered back a few steps, eyes widening, and shook where he stood, but the flame on his head didn’t snuff out. It must be his real hair, though Kageyama had never seen anything like it before.

Then the boy squared his tiny shoulders, fists at his sides, and stuck out his chest. The few times when humans had dared speak to Kageyama, he’d been threatened. It was therefore surprising to hear this boy’s declaration.

“My name is Hinata!”

He felt in that instant a change in the world around him.

To his bafflement, Hinata continued to speak to him, though he had given no indication that he understood. Hinata told him where he had walked from, described the path he took, and how his family was waiting for his return. When he mentioned fish, Kageyama promptly snatched and killed one for him, severing the head with his teeth, then watched in great amusement as Hinata struggled to lift the slippery body and fit it into his basket. He must have thanked him a dozen times, for one fish, reminding Kageyama that humans at their best were an annoyance. He moved away, not expecting Hinata to sneak after him as he made his way to a lone-standing rock formation, and around it to an opening angled slightly away from the stream. He had discovered the crevice earlier that day, unused except for housing some rodents who wouldn’t be in his way.

“Waaaah…”

The boy had followed him inside.

“Is this where you live?”

His smile was wide, creasing deeply into the corners of his eyes. Kageyama scoffed. This was a sleeping hovel, nowhere near big enough for a real home. Then, almost before his eyes, the boy disappeared from the cavern. He was back just as quickly, carrying the lid from his basket.

“It doesn’t fit,” he said, brandishing the lid. “I couldn’t get it on, did you see?”

He had seen the human’s attempt at forcing the lid into place by diving on top of the basket, only to be bounced off and land on his backside several feet away.

“So may I leave it here with you?” the boy said, leaning the lid against the rock wall. “And I’ll take it when I come back.”

Kageyama only looked at him, struggling to understand the human’s logic. Hinata smiled.

“Thank you very much! I’ll come back later, I have to go now.”

The boy had gone outside, taken a rope from his belt and tied it around the basket, and drug it away. The sight of the lid troubled Kageyama throughout the evening, and before he fell into sleep he found himself wondering whether Hinata really would return. This turned out to be the only time he wondered.

Hinata always returned, sometimes in a week, sometimes in only a few days. He came to visit Kageyama during the day, and soon enough to spend nights with him, voice warming the cavern as well as the fire Kageyama produced to warm his nest. Hinata referred to him as the friend he had made while fishing, and gave the explanation that he was going to see his friend whenever he left his family’s home. He always brought fish to them, and sometimes oysters, if he and Kageyama followed the stream up to its meeting with the greater river. Hinata made his family happy, whenever he went home, but Kageyama never wanted him to go, because Hinata made Kageyama happy too. In the beginning, Kageyama had pretended that sensing his return, smelling him in the air and hearing his unchecked footsteps through the woods, until he finally saw him hustling along his now semi-worn path, grinning and starting into a run the moment he saw Kageyama, didn’t excite him so much inside. But as the leaves fell and heat slowly seeped from the sun, Kageyama’s aloofness fell away, and the stubbornness seeped from him, and when he saw Hinata he would toss his head and let out a rumble of greeting, raising the end of his tail and waving it back and forth. He was a very proud dragon, but it pleased Hinata to be greeted this way, he could tell in his smiles and his teasing, and this reward was enough to push his pride to the back of his consciousness.

At the end of the summer, over several days involving much painstaking effort from both of them, Hinata had learned Kageyama’s name. It’s a sound that still visits him in his dreams, Hinata’s voice putting all the notes together, in the correct order, for the first time. Kageyama knew only dark magic, but it sounded like a good spell, quiet but firm, and hopeful at the same time. It had moved Kageyama to roar out the fumes of his frustration, and maybe a bit of masked triumph. Hinata had screamed in joy, jumped up and started dancing, chanting the name over and over, until Kageyama had to take off in flight away from him, a strange warm bubble in his chest that he thought he ought to work out of his system. It was possible that Hinata had some unknown magic in him.

They spent many hours along the stream in daylight, and many hours by a little fire in the cavern at night. Hinata always spoke to him, though Kageyama’s answers were rare and so unlike his own. Hinata loved to watch him fly, higher and higher until he was only a colorful dot on the ground to Kageyama. He loved to find pretty leaves and flowers and rocks to show his sister; Kageyama’s excellent eyesight was imperative in helping him find the most beautiful things. He would bring them back each time, to be carefully replaced, and then they would gather more. They splashed in the stream during summer, and rolled in the grass or in the snow, Hinata wrestling him as if they were the same size. When it rained, Kageyama, whose scaly hide was unbothered, would hold his wing over his tiny friend, only to have him peek his head out into the wet to grin up at him. Sometimes they were both too stubborn, or too fiery, and Hinata would sit by the stream with his arms around his knees, pouting. Then Kageyama would slink up behind him, shuffling forward little by little with his chin against the ground, until Hinata turned around, and smiled, albeit begrudgingly. Sometimes they made each other quite upset; Hinata would run into the woods, and Kageyama took to the skies, returning once he had found something to give that would make the boy happy. If Hinata was the sorry one, he would approach gently, offering his tiny, soft hands to a place Kageyama liked to be touched, a tender place, a sore one, or a ticklish one. Hinata had a strange little nest of his own, inside the cavern, but he always slept at Kageyama’s side. Kageyama would wake earlier, but quietly, and stay put until Hinata woke later and louder.

“Good morning Kageyama!”

He would stand and stretch his arms over his head, then pat his shoulder with a smile warmed and softened by sleep.

Kageyama was nomadic, an unsettled dragon without territory of his own. But he made a place for himself in the small cave near the human village, because that was where Hinata lived.

Now, Kageyama has no idea how long it’s been since he saw him.

For a week, Hinata didn’t come. Two weeks, seven more nightfalls, and he hadn’t come. Seven more sunsets, and seven more, until Kageyama lost track. It may have been a year. It may have been years. Hinata hasn’t come. The seasons blend together, there is cold and heat and wind and rain and none of it has any impression on Kageyama. Hinata doesn’t come to the stream anymore.

Kageyama hardly leaves the cavern, and never goes beyond sight of it. He can’t, because Hinata may come and go away again by the time he gets back. He drinks from the stream, and had eaten from it, but there is no life there anymore, probably because he has overharvested in his insistence on staying in place. He feels weak, but he has felt weak from the beginning, surrounded by dark walls, and outside a dead wood with no visitors for him, no willing companions. His legs tremble when he rises, so he has stopped doing it often, but he is sore where he lies, always in the same place. Facing the opening in the rock, wings tucked by necessity, tail carefully curled to his side so as not to disrupt Hinata’s belongings.

He left them behind, when he departed for what seemed to Kageyama a routine trip to the village, because he always left these things behind. There was a blanket, quilted over on one side with colorful patches by Hinata’s sister. He liked to have it with him, he said, because he did miss his family while he was out in an emptier world. He had a small, intricate basket of his mother’s also, and one stone bowl, and extra socks. Kageyama has taken the utmost care not to move them from their places. He blows the dust off the bowl, and keeps the rodents from chewing away pieces of Hinata’s soft things for their nests. Whenever he reenters the cave, he checks that everything is still here. Maybe this routine is foolish, but Kageyama can’t help but continue in it, since he has no knowledge of how to leave Hinata behind him. It is impossible, he suspects, to leave such a person.

Hinata would laugh, when Kageyama thrashed as he was tickled, and when he pushed the boy into the stream, and it was such a sound, the most wonderful and magical in the land. Hinata would talk, and talk, and Kageyama would wish for it to stop, until the moment it did, and then he was nudging Hinata hard in the back of the head, or if he had fallen asleep, Kageyama would growl at him begrudgingly and settle down into his nest for the night. Hinata talked about his family, until Kageyama came to feel them as the extension of Hinata that they were. He felt pride, when Hinata proudly told the story of his sister nursing a baby crow back to health, and he felt happy, when Hinata’s mother did well at the market with her weavings. Yes, Kageyama knows of these human concepts. After all, he’d been human once himself. But they had meant very little to him at that time; all their importance is with Hinata.

He tried to call for him once. He clamored and flapped to the top of the rock formation, into the open air where his voice would carry. It was fueled less by the hope that Hinata would hear his cry, and more by the flame of agony suffocating his chest.

Hinata liked to go for runs through the woods and the wild meadows. Kageyama would fly around above him and watch his progress, fast for a human, his hair a blur of brightness. Hinata liked scratching near the corners of his eyes, were the skin was thinner. Kageyama liked winter evenings, when they stayed in the cave by a fire that Hinata had built the foundation for and Kageyama had breathed life into. He liked summer evenings too, when they could lay outside until it was pitch black between the stars, and when Hinata got chilled they would go in.

Kageyama makes use of time each morning to practice. He is determined to be more gentle, to smooth out the sharpness of his movements, and to pull back the strength. Hinata isn’t careful very often, which is why he must learn to be, so that Hinata doesn’t get hurt when he jumps at him. He has considered that maybe he did hurt Hinata in some way, that he hadn’t admitted to Kageyama, and that this is the reason he hasn’t returned. But the thought is too unbearable to entertain for long, so he practices being more conscious of his body. He has trained his muscles into holding the spines on his head and down his back almost flat. He doesn’t swing his heavy tail, and keeps the claws on his feet and wings dull with daily scratching against the rock of the cave. He breathes out promises, that would be whispered through tears if dragons could cry, promises that if Hinata returns he will always be gentle.

It is early autumn now, he believes. There’s a chill over his skin that Kageyama doesn’t like, a draft that creeps along the entrance of the cave, as if afraid that moving too fast will awaken the dragon’s wrath against it, one fiery breath to stamp out its chilly life. What it doesn’t know is that Kageyama’s flaming lungs have been out of use longer than his wings. Discomfort is nowhere near motivating enough to draw a reaction from him. He doesn’t curl up any tighter, only shivers once between his shoulders, breathing the same rhythm as ever.

Then the draft carries something to his nose, a scent that tells of an approaching presence. He sniffs sharply, though he doesn’t open his eyes. A human presence. Already very near to the cave. Kageyama sighs the scent away from him. His head falls farther to the side, and his tail remains resolutely limp behind his body.

“Kageyama?”


	2. Chapter 2

“Kageyama?”

His eyes snap open.

The human before him is a young man, shoulders proud, chest broad where it holds his shirt out before him. He stands a little higher from the ground, but his hair is just the same shade of the prettiest leaves in autumn, of a welcoming fire in winter, of wildflowers in spring, of the sunset on the longest summer day. He must have been away a long while.

Hinata smiles.

“I’m here.”

Kageyama is too stiff to move; he wiggles and shuffles against the floor of the cave, a soft, scratchy sound coming from his underused throat. Hinata runs up to him, mercifully closing the gap, and hugs his snout, head landing between his eyes.

“I’m sorry Kageyama,” he says. A chasm opens up in Kageyama, an abyss that needs to be filled from the bottom up with Hinata’s voice. Hinata saying things to him, for only him.

“The men in my village found out about you. They knew, somehow, and they wanted me to lead them to you, because they wanted your treasure. I didn’t come to see you because I thought it would be too dangerous. I didn’t want them to hurt you, Kageyama, but I’m sorry I couldn’t come. I wanted to come, but…”

Kageyama doesn’t make much sense of what he says, but clings to the sound. The voice is slightly deeper, a little of the chirping replaced with a hum; it makes him shiver in a deeper, warmer place. He feels his hands stroking under his eyes, faint against his armor-like hide.

“I thought you would go, after a while,” Hinata says. “But—you stayed?”

He steps back, blinking at him. Kageyama inhales. He huffs, and inhales again, drawing in his human’s full scent. It reminds him of meals eaten together, and being filled with good things, of warm nests, and waking in full rest. His sighs fan over Hinata, who giggles as his hair is blown away from his face. But he quickly quiets. He steps around Kageyama’s nose and leans against his head, stroking him and looking into one big blue eye.

“How have you been?”

Kageyama stares back at him. Hinata must have heard his cries, the one from the top of the cave and every silent one. Hinata will always answer, and will always return to him. He tries to make a noise in response, though it will be a pitiful one, but nothing escapes him at all. Hinata’s eyes are alight and attentive, and they cloud even as he gives another small smile.

“What are you inside for?” he says then, giving him a sturdy pat on the snout. “You can nap outside, the sun is out today!”

He takes a few steps backwards, toward the opening in the rock.

“Come on.”

He waves, and Kageyama follows, solely because he doesn’t want Hinata to leave his sight. His legs stay bent under him, making only the shortest steps possible, and he pulls weakly with his wings, dulled claws scrabbling for grip on the ground.

“Come on Kageyama, let’s go!”

Kageyama stretches toward the stronger voice, breaths coming faster through his nostrils as he presses for the closeness again. He needs to see Hinata, better than the light from the crack that outlines him too brightly will allow, because to see him is to know he is real. If he can only hear him, it could be a dream; dragons only dream in sounds.

“Kageyama?”

He steps nearer, face returning to shadow so that Kageyama can thrive on every detail. Thin brows with a strong arch, and a short nose with a tiny upturned tip. A sharpened jaw but the same cheeks, and a high, round chin. His eyes make Kageyama wish he were the most beautiful creature in the world, that Hinata would never want to look away from him.

“Come out with me.”

Hinata softens his voice, giving another wave of his hand. Kageyama wobbles toward him.

“Come on, Kageyama.” He presses his hand to his nose, when he reaches him. “You can do it,” he says.

Hinata backs out of the cave, and Kageyama follows, led through the dark by a friendly candle, until the sun hits his folded wings and forces his eyelids down. He relies on the weight of Hinata’s palm for the reassurance that he is still there, until he can see again. Hinata looks at him for a long moment. He takes a slow step around his snout, hand moving toward his eye, and looks him up and down. Kageyama does the same to Hinata. Men are foolish and hard-hearted. They threaten, and sometimes attack. Hinata is just as foolish, but no less benevolent than he was as a boy, and now that he has grown to maturity, Kageyama feels protection and assurance in him.

Hinata drops the pack from his back, squatting to the ground to open it. He removes a shirt and shakes it out, then waves Kageyama toward the stream.

“Come over here.”

Hinata coaxes, and Kageyama lays down in the grass that is still green because of its proximity to the water. Hinata kneels and soaks his shirt, wrings it out, and walks back to him. He orders Kageyama to roll onto his side, pushing at his shoulder encouragingly. He pushes and prods, and when Kageyama doesn’t budge, puts both hands on his side and shoves, urging him again. When he finally looks up, scowling, he must see Kageyama’s amusement on his face.

Hinata smiles. “Oi—”

His eyes close as he chuckles. It is familiar, but comes from lower in his chest, and Kageyama loves to hear it. He snickers in his throaty, deceptively threatening way.

“Oi, no laughing!”

Kageyama barks again and rolls onto his side.

“Good.”

Hinata puts one hand on his head, and with the other presses the wet shirt to Kageyama’s chin. It’s cold, and he flinches when Hinata touches a sore spot.

“Ah—” Hinata pats him. “Stay still.”

He swipes gently at the tender spot. Kageyama watches his face, his eyes and the small crease between his brows, and his tongue when it pokes between his lips. He watches Hinata as he moves the cloth to a sore on his neck. When he’s reached his shoulder, and Kageyama has started to let his eye close, trusting that his hands will continue their even strokes, Hinata rubs hard into the wound. Kageyama jerks his head up, a raw sound leaping from his throat.

“Sorry!”

Kageyama holds his gaze until Hinata pats his neck, urging him back to the ground.

“Sorry, Kageyama.”

He huffs as he lays down, keeping his eye open and on the man’s hands.

“I _know_ it hurts,” Hinata says through his teeth, “But it’s got to be done…”

He continues his work down one side of Kageyama’s body, scrubbing each sore clean, rinsing the shirt in the stream, and returning to scrub some more. Then he guides Kageyama to rest on his finished side and works on the other. He is quiet, focused, and Kageyama wonders why he doesn’t talk, but can’t be bothered by it.

It is late in the afternoon, almost evening, when Hinata throws the shirt into the grass and rolls out his shoulders. Kageyama sits up on his haunches. Hinata circles him to inspect his work, and Kageyama watches each footfall, each reach of his hand, and each purse of lips, with careful eyes. Hinata touches him near one sore-covered shoulder with a tiny, strong hand.

“I thought you would go…”

Go? Where? Hinata didn’t think that he would stay and wait for as long as he lived to see him again? Kageyama huffs in his direction. When he has Hinata’s attention, he glares down at him, huffing again.

“Of course I didn’t—I wouldn’t _want_ you to go,” Hinata snaps. “I would’ve missed you, but I wanted you to be safe, Kageyama.”

Kageyama looks haughtily at him.

“I know, you’re not afraid of humans. But I am one. That’s why I’m afraid.”

Hinata is a human, and there is nothing frightening about him, at least not compared to Kageyama. He blows another breath over the man, then opens his mouth to further bare his fangs. He reaches with the claw of his wing, running it through the soil in front of Hinata’s feet. Hinata puts his hands on his hips and smiles.

“Are all dragons so stubborn?”

Kageyama holds his head proudly. Hinata smiles, and chuckles again.

“Now, let me see your wings.”

Kageyama blinks. Hinata’s eyes are warm, but set.

“Open them up.”

Kageyama takes a deep breath. He sets his chin on the ground, and looks up from Hinata’s feet to his face.

“You can do it, Kageyama,” he almost whispers, reaching to pat his snout. “Come on, open up.”

He doesn’t know if it is even possible anymore. His shoulders ache at the thought of rotating in any degree, and without the weight and warmth of his wings against his back, any number of things could happen to him.

“Come on,” Hinata murmurs. He strokes down between his eyes. “Please open them, Kageyama. I know you can do it.”

Maybe Kageyama hadn’t used them to shield himself, in all that time alone. Maybe he had used them to keep whatever he had left inside him. But Hinata is here now, and he has to let it go, in the hope that it will be returned.

He rolls his head to each side to loosen his neck. His eyes sink shut; nothing happens, for a moment. Then each joint cracks, one after another, a pop of pain and a dip of relief. They hardly feel like they belong to him, though the new blood flow increases the ache with each passing second. The warmth of the sun washes down his back, rolling over each unfolded sinew as he stretches his wings, rumbling through his clenched teeth as the unused muscles shriek in protest. Each fold burns and aches, but after holding his full stretch for a moment, Kageyama sinks with a deep sigh of relief.

He has just lifted his head from the ground when Hinata attacks it, the force of his body hitting Kageyama between the eyes, his arms wrapping under his chin and squeezing. He doesn’t feel the coldness of Hinata’s tears until it runs into the corner of his eye.

“I’m sorry,” he chokes. He stops holding him so tightly, and brushes one hand over Kageyama’s cheek.

“I’m sorry, Kageyama…”

They retire to the cave early. Hinata arranges sticks for a new fire in his makeshift hearth and lights it with a flint. Kneeling next to the wall, with his back to Kageyama, he thanks him for caring for his things.

For a long time, Hinata doesn’t sleep. He rests on Kageyama’s folded hind leg, leaned against his body, and strokes him. Kageyama cracks his eye open every so often to see him again. Hinata’s smile breaks into his eyes, but then fades, into something softer and sadder.

In the early morning they go to the stream and drink. Hinata unwraps bread and butter for his breakfast, and Kageyama sniffs with interest. Hinata holds it away from him. Kageyama knocks his nose against the back of his head.

“Oi! This is mine, it isn’t enough for you anyway.”

Kageyama huffs.

“I’m going to catch you some fish, when I’m done.”

Kageyama snorts and shuffles forward, leaning out over the stream. He swipes with his claw, letting the water drip down his wing. He checks to see that Hinata is watching, then ducks and scoops up more in his mouth. He opens, and it falls empty into the stream. Hinata looks from the water back to him.

“How long have the fish been gone?”

Kageyama doesn’t know, so he only holds his gaze. Hinata drops his eyes to his meal, and slowly slips the last few bites between his lips. Then he stands.

“I’ll go up to the river and catch some.”

Kageyama follows him to the cavern, poking his head inside to watch him rummage through the things he brought with him. He takes a pole and a roll of line, and his mother’s basket. Hinata insists on Kageyama staying here, and resting, but Kageyama huffs and tosses his head and follows until he accepts him. They make their way slowly. Hinata checks for signs of life, but the stream is unvarying in its quiet current. They reach the river at high noon, and Hinata exclaims gratefulness to the universe when they find fish.

Kageyama’s strength is dismal, his reaction ability more so, and even he doubts whether he would be able to catch anything. Hinata seems to know this, or at the least is determined to continue caring for him; he leads Kageyama up the back of a bluff, and leaves him at the top, sliding down to the very bank of the river to fish. Kageyama began to feel his hunger last night, and to acknowledge it when Hinata ate this morning. A faintness nearly overtakes him as he leans over the edge of the bluff, and lest he fall and crush Hinata, he scoots back and flattens himself to his stomach, patient, only peeking for a sight of him.

Hinata calls his name whenever he gets a suitable catch. Then he lifts it above his head, drops his arms and legs low and heaves it up to Kageyama. Kageyama eats slowly from a constant supply, watching from the corner of his eye as Hinata fights with each fish. His sleeves are rolled above the elbow, showing the way his forearms crease down the center, and as he jerks and tugs, his shirt pulls away from one straining shoulder. He is strong, in his own small way. And when he tosses the reward of his toil up the bluff, and grins at him, Kageyama feels once again the warm weight of pride in his chest.

Every hour of every day is counted, when Hinata is with him. The man continues to clean his open sores, and fishes for him until Kageyama has regained sufficient strength. One day they walk upstream and find a blockage in the place the stream branches from the river. Hinata removes it, with his help, and life will soon take root in the stream again. Kageyama exercises his wings in small increments, in the same way a newborn dragon would develop control over this intricate system of muscles. He maintains a careful awareness of where Hinata is when he does this, and it seems that Hinata is slowly taking notice of his newly achieved control. When Hinata runs at him too recklessly, Kageyama lifts his head and lets him bounce off his chest. When Hinata succeeds in inciting him to a shoving match, which Kageyama will always win without question, Kageyama saves him from the fall with his snout. Hinata says nothing to this, but he pats him gently in response, with a gentle, nearly tentative smile.

Hinata attempts to start roughhousing one evening, inside the cave, where the rock surrounding them is even harder than Kageyama. He pins various of Kageyama’s limp body parts, then stands and glares at him, nose scrunched. Then a gleam shines in his eyes, and he rams into Kageyama’s side, reaching for the inside of his leg to tickle and get him kicking. Kageyama doesn’t flinch, only brushes his tail over the cave floor as a way of redirecting the itch. By the time Hinata realizes he is bound to be unsuccessful, he is panting, a flush in his cheeks. He flops backwards over Kageyama’s leg.

“Ahh, Kageyama, that doesn’t work anymore?”

He snorts, and moves his tail over the ground to rest next to his foot and Hinata. He lifts the spikes of his tail a few times, before Hinata pays attention to them. Then he smooths them out, and raises then lowers the horns on his head. He hunches his shoulders to lift the spines along his back, for good measure. He opens the claws of his foot and scratches them over the rough floor of the cave. Hinata looks up at him.

“You don’t have to do that. You won’t hurt me, Kageyama.”

Kageyama holds his gaze and gives a sharp snort.

“I _can_ be careful! And everything isn’t up to you. If I ever got hurt, it would be an accident. And I would forgive you.”

He pats his side. And when he lies down on him, rising and sinking with each swell of Kageyama’s breathing, and smiles, Kageyama doesn’t feel half as dangerous as he knows that he is.

Kageyama watches him sleep for several hours each night, before he slumbers himself. Hinata tucks himself right against his side, as if Kageyama’s hide isn’t like tree bark. It is a good thing that dragons can’t cry, or he would have disrupted much of the man’s sleep. He does wake him one night, when the recollection of nights he didn’t have Hinata here floods in more strongly than ever before, more strongly than he was expecting. He never wants to return to such nights. He fears them. Whimpers press achingly in the back of his throat, and he stretches his neck, pushing his nose into Hinata’s middle, nuzzling under his loose arms as more sounds choke him. Hinata sits up, blinking as the distress echoes in the little cavern. He takes Kageyama’s face in his hands.

“What’s the matter?”

Kageyama closes his eyes and presses his nose to Hinata’s heart, where it beats.

“I’m sorry I left you, Kageyama.” He rubs at the corners of his eyes with his thumbs. “I never wanted to,” he declares. “I never want to.”

Hinata’s voice is not a dream now.

The next morning, when they are spread out on the grass, Hinata tries to explain himself again.

“They would’ve followed me,” he says, “No matter what. They watched me all of the time. One man walked by our home every evening, to see if I was out working.”

He rolls to face Kageyama, laying his head on his hands.

“They threatened my family. Because I wouldn’t take them to you. Some people were on our side, so they didn’t hurt us, but they might have, and that’s how I knew they would hurt you, if they got the chance. They would do anything to get what they want. Even if it were what you valued most, they would take it from you.”

Kageyama lifts his head. He huffs, and huffs again, tossing his head. Hinata sits up.

“What? What is it?”

Kageyama lunges forward, gentleness all forgotten as he circles Hinata within his body, spikes raising along his spin and his tail as it settles out in front of them, a warning. They will never take Hinata, no matter how many and how strong the men think they are. No matter how starved and weak Kageyama has become, no matter if he can’t fly or cover them in flames. He will fight when his last tooth and claw are gone, and his body is nothing but pain, to keep Hinata.

“Kageyama? I—I thought you didn’t have any treasure…”

Kageyama curls tighter around him, raising his eyes to Hinata’s face, which slowly dawns with surprise.

“Oh,” he says in a very small voice.

They are silent for a few moments. Then Hinata pats his head and tries to smooth the spines on his back.

“No, it’s not that. They want money. Gold, and jewels and things. They don’t—They don’t care about me.”

Kageyama is soothed only by the touches, and starts to lose his tenseness.

“You don’t have any of the treasure they want.” Hinata sinks against his neck, still touching him. “They wouldn’t listen, if I tried to tell them. So I had to stay away for a while. But I’m back now.”

Kageyama cries with his voice on another night, before either of them has fallen asleep. Hinata starts to stroke him again, with silent promises, but soon Kageyama’s plaintive moans are joined by the sound of Hinata crying.

“I—I’m sorry Kageyama.”

Kageyama’s head is in his lap, and he bends low over him as he chokes out the words.

“I’m so sorry. I thought you would go away from here, and forget about me. I didn’t want you to forget—” his breath shakes—“But I didn’t want you to be hurt either! I didn’t want you to go, I didn’t know if I would ever meet you again.”

He cups Kageyama’s jaw and turns his face to his own.

“I didn’t want you to think I stopped caring about you. You didn’t, did you?”

Kageyama lifts his head until his nose is pressed under Hinata’s chin. He grunts. Hinata squeezes his eyes shut and squeezes Kageyama.

“I’m sorry you had to wait so long for me.”

Kageyama hadn’t intended for Hinata to get more upset than himself. He tries nudging his neck comfortingly. Hinata rests his head against his and continues to cry. Kageyama is determined to stop it, and after some consideration, tries a game they used to play.

He snorts into his ear. As soon as Hinata pulls back, Kageyama snorts in his face.

“A—”

He huffs again. Hinata flinches away from it, a small smile on his lips as he wipes his arm over his face. Hinata would usually try to blow into his eyes; if he could get Kageyama to blink, it was a victory to be bragged about for all of a day. Hinata doesn’t try it this time, but he shuts his eyes and laughs when Kageyama gives a final defeating huff. He sniffles and wipes his face with the collar of his shirt, but his eyes are still wet. Kageyama flicks out his tongue and licks his cheek, slipping it back behind his teeth just as fast.

“Oi!” Hinata laughs, wiping his cheek. “Since when do you do that?”

He continues to rub his face.

“It’s kind of—”

His smile scrunches up, and he shivers. Kageyama narrows his eyes. His next lick is inside his ear.

“Ah! No Kageyama!” He pushes his head away, shouting through laughter. “Never do that again! No!”

There are better, more comfortable nights. Hinata tells stories of his family, and retells the story of his sister tricking the men so that Hinata could escape back to the stream, because this is Kageyama’s favorite. Hinata roasts oysters over the fire and fills the cavern with good smells. He uses his blanket and his extra socks, so that they smell like him again. Kageyama noses through them when Hinata himself refuses to be nosed through.

He finally breathes fire. For a long time he had slept on an unpleasantly cold bed. When Hinata returned, he set out to make Kageyama’s nest up nicely for him, and with a few tweaks from the dragon himself, it became a good nest again. Now he is feeling sure enough to test his ability in front of Hinata. He cannot afford to fail, because he is through being cared for and loath to hear anymore of Hinata’s encouragement. He breathes heat into his bed, and Hinata exclaims, but he ignores him, turning circles over the embers before settling into the warmth. Hinata jumps over the edge of the nest and lands on Kageyama’s leg, where he settles for the night. They fall asleep, unaware that it will be the last night they spend in the cavern.

Kageyama startles violently awake in the darkest part of the night. He senses unfamiliar humans. And Hinata is gone from the cave.

Kageyama stands, shaking out his wings and preparing to charge out in search of Hinata, when the man comes running inside, a single burning stick in his hand.

“Kageyama!”

He checks over his shoulder.

“Kageyama, they’re coming. The men, they found us, so you need to leave now, you can’t let them get you. Will you be able to fly?”

The blood began to rush in Kageyama’s ears as soon as Hinata told him to go. He shrieks, huffs, stomps his feet and beats his wings. Hinata only watches, dumbfounded, and Kageyama boils hotter inside, raising the intensity of his defiance.

“You can’t fly?” Hinata cries over his tantrum.

Kageyama drops down, hooks his chin at Hinata’s back and pulls him close to his chest.

“Me?” Hinata says. “Well I’m coming with you, of course!”

Kageyama stills, and Hinata steps back. He looks up at him.

“I said goodbye to my family, and my friends, before I left them,” he says. “I can always write letters. And make new friends.” He puts his hand on Kageyama’s nose. “You’ve been looking for a real home, haven’t you? We can find one together.”

Hinata smiles. Kageyama quivers, hot and cold at once, anxious and eager, but most of all, he feels joy, like sunlight hitting his heart. He leans closer, until his nose touches Hinata’s chin.

He watches Hinata collect and pack his things at a dizzying speed, as if he has been prepared for this. When he turns with his pack on and a rope in his hand, Kageyama has already lowered his head to the ground, and Hinata grins as he hurries to him. He slides his leg over the base of Kageyama’s neck and settles just in front of his shoulders. He fastens the rope loosely around Kageyama’s neck, then around his own waist. Kageyama waits impatiently, listening to the approach of the men. They hear a clear shout.

“Let’s go,” Hinata says, as Kageyama is already lunging for the opening in the rock.

Black figures bleed from the shadow of the woods. Kageyama sees the glint of steel under the moonlight, before he blows a line of fire across their paths, lighting the night in a flash of orange. He rears and lunges off his hindlegs, launching into the air. Hinata screams and holds on with his knees, until they are high enough for Kageyama to level himself. Then he lets out an enthralled cry. It hits Kageyama’s heart like the head of a poisoned arrow, heating the blood that pumps through his body twice as hot.

“I’m—I’m flying!”

Hinata cuts off in the middle of a laugh.

“Kageyama!” He pats him. “Are you alright?”

Kageyama swells his chest and roars, shaking the sky before them. Hinata laughs. His hands leave Kageyama’s neck, and when he shouts again, Kageyama shouts with him, freed.


End file.
